All Your Fault
by Jiminy The Cricket
Summary: Henry Blake's death hits everyone hard at the M*A*S*H 4077, but none harder than Hawkeye and Radar, and when Hawkeye takes out his anger and grief on the clerk in a drunken rage, causing Radar to run off into the night, can they find him in time to make amends?


"Why didn't you see it!?" Hawkeye yelled

"I-I..."

"You show off all the time, showing how you can 'see' things before they happen. You see helicopters coming five minutes before anyone else. Your names Radar for god's sake! Why didn't you see it!?"

Hawkeye had now backed the poor clerk into the corner. Radar was now trapped between a high filing cabinate and Hawkeye.

"I d-didn't..." Radar cowered

"It's your fault!" Hawkeye yelled, his voice slowly rising in ager, blinded with his drunken rage "Do you realise that!? You didn't see it coming! Henry is dead, at the bottom of the ocean and it's YOUR FAULT!"

Trapper looked up from his seat in the officers' club, hearing raised voices from Henry's... The CO's office. No. One voice. Hawkeye. Screaming.

He stood up, running for the door, knowing it couldn't be good.

He was right.

Radar barged past him, catching his arm by mistake, causing the clerk to be thrown to the ground. He scrambled out of the dirt, whimpering out an apology, before taking off at a limping run.

"Radar..." Trapper went to stop him, but he had gone. He turned for the office, only to see Hawkeye leaning in the doorway, fire in his eyes.

"Hawkeye!" Trapper yelled, walking up to him "What the hell is going on?"

"All his fault... Henry..." Hawkeye muttered, mostly to himself.

"What?" Trapper asked, taken aback, but Hawkeye barged past him, stumbling towards The Swamp.

Trapper cast a wary look into the shadows where Radar had gone.

"Klinger." Trapper called the other clerk over. Klinger walked over, wearing a flattering green dress and red hat.

"Yes?"

"Could you keep an eye out for Radar? Hawkeye's said something... I don't know. But he's run off."

"Yes, sir. I'll look for him."

"I just hope he hasn't run into the minefield..." Trapper muttered to himself, before shaking off the thought quickly, heading for the swamp. The 20 hour shift in OR was finally catching up with him. Radar or no Radar, he needed sleep.

The next morning and Hawkeye felt like he had been hit in the face by a brick. His head was pounding and his mouth was like sandpaper. He groaned. Then he recalled the night before and groaned louder. What was he thinking? It wasn't anyone's fault about what happened to Henry, least of all Radar...

Radar.

Hawkeye, sat up, his hangover pushed to the back of his mind. He winced as sunlight caught his face, his headache drumming in his skull, but he ignored it. He had to find the kid. He had to apologise.

"Hawkeye!" He heard a voice yell. He turned to see Trapper walking up to him, eyes like fire.

"What was that all about, last night?"

"I can't..." Hawkeye said, staring round "I have to find Radar, where is he?"

"We don't know. We can't find him anywhere."

"Oh no."

"Franks gone ballistic and has reported him AWOL. The MPs are out searching the forests. If they find him he's as good as court marshalled."

"Well then we'll just have to find him first." Hawkeye told him, jumping into a nearby jeep, revving the engine. "Come on."

Trapper sighed and hopped in next to him.

Blood. Blood and pain. His head hurt, but only to take his mind off of the wounds. He'd been stupid, running off into the night. He'd got disoroantated. He had to get back. Home. 4077. Hawkeye. He had to apologise to Hawkeye...

Maybe some rest. He was tired. He'd been running all night. Maybe sleep would do him fine. Yes. Sleep. He was safe in sleep...

Hawkeye hit the wheel angrily. They'd been searching for four hours and the sun was only getting hotter. They'd looked in the nearby scrub. Nothing. The quarry. Nothing. They'd even gone to the 8067. Radar wasn't there either. Thank goodness that no choppers had arrived at camp, they would have seen them flying overhead if they had. Finally, they'd ventured into the forest a few miles away from camp. They were in a clearing now, resting from their search for a few minutes, but occasionally they yelled his name in a dull hope he'd answer. No answer came.

Hawkeye was about to suggest heading back and sending out a larger search party, when Trapper yelled out.

"Hawkeye! Look!"

There, on the ground just inside the clearing was a small crater that looked more like a glorified mole-hill than anything else. In and around the kicked up dirt was lumps of metal.

"It's an exploded mine." Trapper told him.

"Do you mean we've driven into a minefield?!" Hawkeye exclaimed

"No. Probably just a few spare ones left by the Koreans."

"And we could have hit one!"

"And by the looks of things someone else did." Trap nodded at the exploded dirt and singed trees "They must have set the mine off."

Hawkeye spotted something out the corner of his eye. Something he didn't like.

"Trap." He said, motioning for him to look. There was a pair of glasses on the floor, the lenses cracked and the frame bent.

"Are they...?"

Hawkeye swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "Yeah." He nodded weakly.

"He must be nearby..." He picked the glasses up, wiping the dirt off of them, trying to ignore the small droplets of blood on the branch next to it.

This was all his fault.

They began searching more frantically, calling out his name, searching in bushes and ditches. It only just occurred to Hawkeye how easy it was for a person of Radar's size to hide away.

Then, he spotted something. A few meters away from where was at that moment searching in vain through a berry bush, he spotted a hat, poking out from behind a fallen tree.

"Trap!" Hawkeye yelled, racing over.

There he was. He lay unconscious, curled up against the tree, arms folded over his abdomen.

"Radar!" Hawkeye yelled, crouching down beside the clerk. He now saw why he had his arms folded. A large, gaping injury was in his side, his right leg was also badly cut up and he had a nasty gash on his face. His face was scrunched up in discomfort. Hawkeye breathed a sigh of relief; he was still breathing.

Trapper raced over, almost choking on his breath when he saw him.

"We've got to get him back to MASH."

"Yeah, but tread carefully. We don't know how many other mines are around here."

With a bit of difficulty, they managed to lift the kid between themselves and carry him carefully back to the jeep and then, carefully reverse back out of the forest and back to the road, where Hawkeye then stepped on the pedal and shot down the road.

It took half an hour to get back to the MASH unit and every minute dragged. Radar whimpered in his sleep, occasionally muttering things like 'Hawkeye' 'Henry' and 'Apologise' and it made Hawkeye's heart wrench.

Finally, just as the clock on the jeep clicked to twelve o'clock, they drew up to the OR unit, only to see Frank with a face like thunder. They ignored him and started to unload Radar onto a stretcher.

"And where do you two nurks think you're going?" Frank asked, angrily.

"OR. We've found Radar and he's badly hurt." Hawkeye told him straight. He had no time to joke around.

"You had no permission to drive off at the early hours to look for that little twerp. He was to be found by the MPs."

"Frank, any longer out there and he'd be dead." Trap snarled

"Serves the little deserter right." Frank said "I'd leave him to the vultures. Freaks like him don't have a place in a well-oiled army camp."

Hawkeye snapped. Before Frank could react he spun round and hit his square in the face. Frank yelped and collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out his nose.

"Listen here and listen good, _ferret-face_." Hawkeye growled "Radar has saves our skins more times than I care to count. You are a cowardly, rat-featured backstabber who has the personality and likability of a slug. Never. NEVER question his place here or insult him In front of me EVER AGAIN. If you do, a broken nose will be the least of your worries."

And with that he turned and, with Trap at the other end carried Radar into the OR.


End file.
